


Radio Silence

by jyorraku



Series: 3D3C [2]
Category: The Expanse (TV)
Genre: Cotyar (The Expanse) Lives, Established Relationship, F/F, F/M, Multi, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-04
Updated: 2020-10-04
Packaged: 2021-03-07 19:13:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,669
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26812708
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jyorraku/pseuds/jyorraku
Summary: Chrisjen receives a special message from the fleet heading to the Ring.
Relationships: Chrisjen Avasarala/Bobbie Draper, Chrisjen Avasarala/Cotyar, Chrisjen Avasarala/Cotyar/Bobbie Draper, Cotyar/Bobbie Draper
Series: 3D3C [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1744183
Comments: 2
Kudos: 20





	Radio Silence

Fucking asshole.

Chrisjen Avasarala fumed.

The video played on. "We're still counting the dead, the wounded, the missing since the deceleration."

Fucking missing asshole.

Chrisjen fumed some more until she had to get up and pace because the missing asshole was Cotyar and she had to do something, to move, to agitate the air around her, even if it was utterly useless. She was on Earth and they were getting their asses handed to them by an alien structure that brought to life the hellscape of nightmares. Humans, for all their ingenuity, still had bodies that were much too fragile against the immutable forces of physics. The weight of the Razorback's multiple Gs had nearly crushed her last time, but the reverse of that, sudden deceleration, was just as deadly. Bile rose from beneath her chest, burning behind the solid lump in her throat. Where the fuck was he?!

Bobbie swallowed, her eyes stark with whites as she recounted, "Comms are still sporadic, he hasn't answered any of the messages I managed to get out and his terminal's not registering. I've scoured through the counts and IDs and he isn't anywhere." She paused before forcibly lifting a corner of her lips, joking through set teeth, "If you've got some magic trick up your sleeve, like how you guys always seem to read each others' minds, I would appreciate a heads-up that he's just taking his sweet ass time getting back to us, and not--" Bobbie's bottom lip trembled before she gritted out the increasingly likely scenario for Cotyar's radio silence, "--a bloody fucking mess somewhere."

Chrisjen gripped the hand rest of the couch, lowering herself to the ridiculously plush cushion with some semblance of dignity. Her body only wanted to curl into itself like a small child.

A knock jerked Bobbie out of her own reflected mixture of abject despondence. Chrisjen watched as she swirled around, taking quick steps to the door before pausing, her knuckles white against the news that laid waiting beyond the door.

"Bobbie? You in there?"

Chrisjen gasped aloud, wondering if the video's audio was deceiving her or if she was hearing wishful things.

Bobbie slammed her hand on the door release.

From an angle, Chrisjen could see a tired, but very much alive Cotyar. That familiar wry grin on his face.

"Hey Marine," he greeted softly, his eyes luminous at the sight of Bobbie despite his weary demeanor.

"Spy..." Bobbie’s rejoinder was instinctive. She fell back as he stepped inside with an irritating easy stride, observing with increasing incredulity and moreas he casually closed the door behind him. It was hard to imagine that just moments prior, they had imagined the worst, that a grotesque puddle as all that remained of him, somewhere in an obscure corner of the fleet.

Chrisjen preemptively winced as that soundless seething pressure in the room exploded with Bobbie roaring, "Where the fuck were you?!"

Cotyar tugged at his earlobe, but readily replied with a staid and nonsensical, "getting shown up by Nagata and a pastor," before pulling out the remains of a crushed terminal from the side pocket of his jacket. Its pitiful condition was a testament to how close he came to that state himself. Chrisjen swallowed back a wave of dizzying nausea. And as he stood in one place to shrug out of his jacket, Chrisjen could finally see his full profile marred with an angry red gash above his right temple. Her hand was already reaching out when she stopped, withdrawing back into the Earthbound reality when everything in her wanted to be there to soothe that painful looking wound.

Bobbie’s brows knitted, but she wasn't as easily distracted. Instead, she stuck on task, "What the hell are you talking about?"

Chrisjen straightened in her chair. Yes, what the fuck was he talking about?

Cotyar sighed. "I finally caught up to Mao."

Bobbie frowned that unexpected name. "Mao? Isn't he in prison?"

Chrisjen hissed out loud. He better be in prison, or heads were going to roll.

"Not Jules-Pierre," Cotyar amended before Chrisjen could open another holo to check on that bastard’s current high security accommodations. "Clarissa Mao, his other daughter. I've been keeping track of the Maos’ activities on Earth, but my eyes on the ground lost track of her. When they finally told me she somehow got into the fleet heading for the Ring, I started tracking her down. Kept finding mangled bodies in her wake."

Clarissa Mao was a fucking party planner. It had to have been Mao pulling her strings, making his innocent bystander daughter into a murderer. Chrisjen's blood boiled. Prison was too good for him.

Bobbie exhaled heavily, appalled and exasperated, clearly thinking the same thoughts. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Your hands were full," Cotyar replied, emphasis on the 'full' as if he was daring her to contradict him. As head of the Joint Task Force on this expedition, Bobbie was buried up to her neck in responsibilities. He continued, "There wasn't time and with the sudden deceleration, all hell broke loose – I had to make sure she wasn't a part of a coordinated attack."

Irritation began bubbling between Chrisjen's eyes.

"At the UN? Is Chrisjen in danger?" Bobbie caught on an instant later.

Danger? Chrisjen scowled. If the UN's security apparatus couldn't protect their own Secretary-General from a guy who was rotting away the rest of his life in a cell, they might as well just go home. Bobbie and Cotyar even had her swear on their safe returns that she wasn't going to take any stupid risks before leaving with the fleet. Her risks were never stupid, perhaps miscalculated on the rare occasion, but never stupid.

But given the opportunity, Cotyar wouldn’t have wanted to leave it to chance. His own life, on the other hand, he still acted as if no one gave a fuck. Chrisjen Avasarala was many things, but she was not no one. And to her, it was transparent how he was deliberately leading the conversation astray.

Cotyar shook his head. "She’s not in danger. Clarissa spilled pretty quickly. Apparently the Maos became fixated on the fact that none of this would have happened if Holden hadn't been Holden. Which, I think you'll agree, isn't exactly wrong," he considered with a one-shouldered shrug.

Holden was a walking disaster magnet, but that was hardly the point! If she had been there, he wouldn't have dared such an obvious tactic.

Bobbie opened her mouth to reply, then closed it without a word. Chrisjen felt her own lips curl with gleeful pride as Bobbie's eyes blazed.

"This isn't just about the Maos," Bobbie uttered, her jaw clenched. "Did you really serve? How did you even pass Basic?"

Cotyar's eyelids drew down into a hooded gaze. "Excuse me?"

"You went chasing after a serial killer, and after we suddenly decelerated, you still couldn't find time to let me know that you weren't horribly killed or crumpled into a bloody mess somewhere?!" Bobbie exclaimed, her hands shooting up into the air, "We're out here in the shit and you can't keep your comms open!"

He glanced pointedly at what was left of his handheld.

Bobbie rolled her eyes. "As if you couldn't figure out how to broadcast a message out of a spare VAC suit. That's an excuse and you know it."

Cotyar didn't argue otherwise, blinking blankly at her, as he wasn't quite sure what she wanted from him. The idiot. Disappointment flashed across Bobbie face, but she squared her shoulders and asked a succinct, operational manner that Cotyar couldn’t pretend not to understand, "How the hell are we suppose to coordinate when you just fuck off to do god knows what?"

Against the initial frantic anger, and then the accusing reprimand, Cotyar somehow managed to find the best and worst way to reply, with a soft but concise reminder, "I'm not one of your squad.”

The swift punch of his words drained Bobbie’s face of all color, and the naked hurt on her endearingly open face made Chrisjen's fingers curl, itching to dig into the flesh of the idiot man who should have known better. Claws or no claws, it was as if Cotyar felt Chrisjen's displeasure – or more likely heard the harsh echo of the words that had come out of his stupid mouth. His lips pressed into a tight contrite line.

"That was badly put."

Bobbie shook her head, "You...” She swallowed the tremor in her voice, “...you put that exactly where you wanted it. Good for you.” She abruptly turned, her head held high and away, and headed for the door.

Cotyar swore under his breath, his hand shot out to stop her, “Bobbie, wait.”

Bobbie kept wrenching her arm to shake him off until he wrapped his other hand around her neck and pulled her close, their heads pressed together. He inhaled sharply as the contact rubbed into his head wound, but didn’t let up the slightest. She stopped struggling instantly, but shut her eyes, unwilling to let him see the emotions that still roiled in them. Her hand slide between them, over his chest, as if to push him away.

Cotyar clutched at that hand and tugged her closer, his lips mouthing the curve of her jaw before murmuring in her ear, “Don’t go. Please.”

Bobbie shivered, breathing in his closeness and his pleading words. Her hand gathered into a fist over his shirt. Chrisjen could hear the righteous pout in her voice as she protested, “You’ve always had my back. Why can’t you let me have yours?”

He drew back, his eyes gleaming in the soft cabin lights, his fingers drawing lingering circles over Bobbie’s collar bone. Licking his lips, he finally replied with a sigh, “Plausible deniability doesn’t work that way.”

Oh for the love of...!

Yes, Chrisjen gathered that his surveillance of the Maos isn’t exactly legal after the courts had determined it had all been Jules-Pierre and rest of his family was none the wiser. But given the havoc Clarissa Mao had wreaked on the fleet, even if the monitoring was discovered, the courts could grant some leniency. It was the politicians--if they had someone in their cross-hairs, they could twist two truths into a lie.

And yet, she didn’t know whether to laugh to cry that Cotyar’s radio silence was to protect her. After everything they’ve been through, did he think she wanted him to run headlong into danger? All without telling anyone so some shithead couldn’t score a point against her in their imaginary power games? Fuck plausible deniability.

“What?” Bobbie blurted out before coming to Cotyar’s twisted perspective. “Okay,” she exhaled, “as Secretary-General, maybe Chrisjen needs that---”

“I DO FUCKING NOT!” Chrisjen yelled, shooting up from her seat, panting with indignation.

Her office door jerked open, the guard rushed in with his hand on his holster, his wide eyes alert. “Ma’am?!”

Chrisjen held a hand to her temple and managed a clipped, “I’m fine.”

When the guard didn’t immediately exit, Chrisjen looked up to see him assessing her, as if questioning her veracity. A muscle in her face twitched. “Get. Out.”

Whatever the guard saw in her face, it got his back up immediately. “Yes, ma’am. Sorry, ma’am.” He retreated, backpedaling until he got to the door, shutting it with a soft click.

Chrisjen groaned. For a dizzying moment, she considered resigning if only to keep Cotyar and Bobbie from being overbearing idiots. But then she wouldn’t be in a position to protect them from the fallout of trying to save the human race. And then they were all going to die anyway because the fuckwits in charge wouldn’t know their asses from the hellhole that was the Ring.

She found herself chuckling. It was all fucking hilarious.

The holo had paused itself, sensing an interrupting conversation. Chrisjen was almost afraid to start playing it again, wondering if she was going to find out even more stupid things they were doing for her supposed benefit. Maybe she shouldn’t have gotten involved, Cotyar could go back to his little Robin Hood acts of rebellion and Bobbie, she...

Bobbie continued, “---but I don’t need it. Someone comes for you, they can come for the both of us.”

...was too good for anyone else but them.

Chrisjen trembled. She loved the both of them with a nearly uncontrollable ferocity. No one was going to fuck with two of her favorite people if Chrisjen had anything to say about it.

Except, now on top of that, she was irritated--no, jealous of their battlefield camaraderie. More ridiculous that it came from trying to protect her and fight for her cause. She couldn’t be there with them, couldn’t stick her tongue down Cotyar’s throat and make him beg to change his terrible, tight-lipped ways, couldn’t strip Bobbie bare and show her how much she adored her artless, staunch declaration.

Cotyar appeared similarly partial to Bobbie’s matter-of-fact statement, his smiling gaze were so utterly soft and bright that an inchoate ache blossomed in Chrisjen’s chest. Just how much did Charanpal’s death and Cotyar’s subsequent departure from the UN affect who he became? How much of his modus operandi came from that solitary self-flagellation?

The light in Cotyar’s eyes flickered and his gaze dimmed. He fell back, and ran his tongue over his teeth before uttering with an empty grin, shaking his head minutely, “You won’t always like my methods.”

He moved to step back further, as if retreating back into the shadows. The blood on his hands wouldn’t be so red in the dark.

“Stop it,” Chrisjen snapped fiercely, clutching the edge of her seat with white knuckles. Her own hands were hardly pristine. Cotyar understood, even more than Arjun, what she was capable of, and loved her anyway. Didn’t he think she and Bobbie could do the same?

Bobbie grasped his shirt, reversing his retreat, tugging him close again. She exclaimed, jaw clenched, “No, but I like you.” Brushing her knuckles down the curve of his temple, next the angry wound, Bobbie gazed up from her lowered lashes, her eyes shinning. “Damn it, it hurts that you think we can’t face whatever consequences together.”

And Chrisjen had thought she couldn’t love Bobbie anymore.

Cotyar grimaced. “That’s not what I intended.”

“But that’s what you did. And if I didn’t love you so much then it wouldn’t matter. But it matters,” Bobbie paused, licking her lips. “It mattered the moment you gave my power armor back to protect Chrisjen.”

Cotyar’s gaze went soft at the memory. He said, smiling crookedly, “You came back for us.”

Like an avenging red angel. Chrisjen’s heart drummed loudly as she remembered the stickiness of Cotyar’s blood on her hands, the way Bobbie dispatched Mao’s goons, and the pulse-racing escape in the Razorback. The whole Io shitstorm. They made it out by the skin of their teeth.

“Yes,” Bobbie replied, breathing hard at the same recollection. With her wide-opened eyes locked to his, she added with fearsome conviction, “Always.”

Cotyar exhaled audibly. Reaching out, his thumbs feathered over the apple of Bobbie’s cheeks. His eyes flickered down to the blooming flush of her skin and the breathy part of her lips. With a rough sound of surrender, he descended ravenously on her mouth. His hand drove up, cradling Bobbie’s skull so there was no air left between them, only lips, mouth, and tongue.

Bobbie shook, like a charge had gone through her, and kissed him back just as hungrily, arching into the solid heat of his body.

Chrisjen swallowed dryly, taken-aback by the sudden infusion of lust and passion playing out her screen. She zeroed in on the progression of the video message and blinked. There was a substantial amount left to go.

On the screen, they paid her no mind. Instead, without breaking the kiss, Cotyar rushed Bobbie back into a bulkhead, the zipper of her revised armor suit almost sparking as he yanked it down. Not to be outdone, Bobbie swiftly dispatched the belt and zipper of Cotyar’s jeans, but just before reaching her target, he shoved her back to wrestle her suit off her shoulders. She growled at being intercepted, bucking with a ragged cry as he bit down into a tendon of her bared shoulder. Tearing her arms out of the skin tight sleeves, Bobbie shimmied to get the suit off her hips. Yet before she could do so, she gasped, clawing blindly at Cotyar’s shoulders for leverage, against the hand he had brusquely delved down the unzipped V of her suit.

Chrisjen watched wide-eyed at the frenetic display of speed and unchecked motion. It was like they were feral, engaged in a fight to the finish, except the goal wasn’t to win, but to get under each other’s skin in the most primal way.

She knew the compactness of her stature and the wisdom of her years made her towering lovers felt like a bit of careful maneuvering was necessary when they got into bed. And she often took vicious delight in unleashing their restraint and overwhelming their self-control, but to see them so thoroughly untethered after such a disaster, their raw vitality made her heart swell. Her eyes drank in the open breadth of his broad shoulders and the long length of her ensnaring limbs, taking her breath away.

And as they crashed together, a sheen of sweat covered the soft curves and hard contours. How long had it been, since they left for the Ring? Too long. But how was it she could still recall with such lurid clarity, the salty taste of their skin, the musky scent of their arousal, the throaty moans of their pleasure?

Chrisjen clenched her thighs, the throb in her sex intensifying as additional bits of clothing were jettisoned off the screen.

“Right there?” Cotyar murmured, his clever hand undulating roughly between them.

Bobbie choked out a whimper, her head falling back, her hips rocking forward.

“Yeah, right there,” he answered himself, smug and unrepentant. His eyes were black with hungry intent as he lined himself up and drove home, his chest heaving with impatient urgency.

With a cry, Bobbie caught Cotyar within the grip of her mile long legs, riding the long, thick cock inside her. He clutched at her outer thigh, his hand stretched possessively across that smooth expanse of skin to pull her closer, so he could plunge deeper and rub harder with every thrust.

Chrisjen shifted in her seat as the walls of her sex pulsed ravenously but found only a lone hollow space. She could only continue to watch, her body unsatisfied and empty, but her eyes wide and full. Bobbie’s nails were clawing, Cotyar’s fingers bruising. And to hear the wet slap of naked skin over skin, copious and loud over the high keens and low grunts, meant that even if she closed her eyes, she couldn’t escape the erotic images in her mind, couldn’t help the trickle of sweat slipping between her breasts, and couldn’t stop the flashes of heat lighting up her spine.

Fucking fuck.

They were almost there, Cotyar’s thrusts quickening to erratic pumps and Bobbie’s cries shortening to breathless gasps. And with the warm slickness pooling between her clenched thighs and the stretched ache of her engorged nipples, it wasn’t going to take very much to get herself off either. Though Chrisjen preferred Cotyar’s cock pumping hard and fast between her thighs and Bobbie’s mouth eagerly licking the brown off her nipples, watching them furiously working themselves into ecstasy and being unable to participate infused her blood with the needy, masochistic pleasure of a voyeur. More of this and she might even forget that she was in the office of the UN Secretary-General.

Biting her bottom lip, Chrisjen paused the video, took a steadying breath, and commed the guard outside.

“Unless there’s another rock of mass destruction hurtling down to Earth, I am not to be disturbed for the next thirty minutes.”

Thankfully, the guard’s confirmation came immediately to make up for his blunder earlier. “DND for the next 30 minutes, yes ma’am.”

Though it was as if her legs were rubbery stilts, Chrisjen made it into her private lounge in record time. With an unsteady hand, she tore at the suffocating silks until she was in her underwear, a darkened dampness visible through the flimsy fabric covering her swollen sex. She curled up on the large chaise, unzipping and tossing off her black boots, letting out a sigh of relief as she released the clasp of her bra. Setting her hand terminal down on a side table, she restarting the video, her other hand already dipping down between her thighs.

The protagonists of the video picked up right where they stopped, except now, Chrisjen could hear her own shallow breaths with theirs as she touched herself. Bobbie came first with a broken and filthy exclamation that made Chrisjen’s fingers jerk, sinking easily into the slick of her sex. Toes curling, Chrisjen added another finger to mimic, if somewhat poorly, that heavy fullness of his cock in her cunt. She clutched at her breast with her other hand, not so much to tease the tender tip but to knead and squeeze as one would reward and urge the continued motion of pistoning buttocks. On that distant cue, the tendons on Cotyar’s backside rippled as he leveraged more weight and strength to keep Bobbie pinned to the wall. His biceps flexed, his grip on Bobbie slipping once on account of their co-mingled sweat, but he was incentivized to succeed, keeping her thighs hoisted and open against him, fucking her through her orgasm.

“Yes,” Chrisjen murmured as Cotyar watched Bobbie’s eyes haze over in prolonged pleasure. He bit into the flesh of his bottom lip with a wince and leaned in to stall the inevitable, his stubble razing a path up the long column of Bobbie’s throat. His flinching resistance only increased the heady anticipation of seeing him come, of seeing him completely relinquish himself without reservation. Without the need to keep them in the dark in a misguided bid to protect her. She wanted to curl herself around him and squeeze until he didn’t know where she began and he ended. “Yesssssssssssss.”

With a wild burst strength, Cotyar capitulated, plunging and sealing himself to Bobbie, coming a shuddering, ragged groan. Bobbie whimpered softly as his ejaculate flooded the snug channel of her sensitized sex. The tiny sound was as guilty as that final swirl of her fingers in pushing Chrisjen over the edge. Her spine seized into an arch as she came, pleasure making the air glitter as she struggled to breath through the intensity of the moment.

As the ability to blink on command returned, Chrisjen glanced over to the video where Cotyar and Bobbie had made their way to into the bunk. Their legs were tangled as they laid in bed, bring their bodies close, if no longer by sex, then by skin. As distracting as Bobbie’s backside was, Chrisjen watched as Bobbie palmed the back of Cotyar’s head, and by the motion of her arm, deduce that she was tracing nonsense into his skull, savoring the post-coital closeness as their breathes evened.

Chrisjen’s heart skipped a beat. It was only in this moment that a seedling of loneliness sprouted, the distance of planets separating them from enjoying this intimate moment together. Bobbie sighed contently and rolled over, facing outward, tugging Cotyar’s arm to wrap about her waist. It was then that Bobbie’s eyes flickered to the recorder. Her eyes widened to saucers as she realized it had been and was still recording.

“What is it?” Cotyar asked behind her, sensing the change of the woman in his arms.

Bobbie turned a bright red, her lips parting to speak but nothing was coming out.

A smirk tugged across Chrisjen’s face. Their Martian was embarrassed.

Rising on an elbow, Cotyar followed Bobbie’s intense gaze to the recorder and look into Chrisjen’s eyes. He returned her smirk so perfectly that she clutched a hand to her chest to stop herself from wanting to run straight back into space just to be with them.

Chuckling lowly, he turned back to Bobbie. “Looks like we put on a show.”

“It wasn’t on purpose!” Bobbie exclaimed, her blush extending down her body.

“Right...” Cotyar replied dryly before doing a double-take, looking down at her with renewed, heated interest, continuing absentmindedly, “...you were narcing on me when I showed up.”

“If you had known better, I wouldn’t have to,” Bobbie scowled.

“Yes, sir.” Cotyar leaned down to kiss her shoulder, murmuring, “I’ll do better next time, sir.”

Bobbie snorted loudly. Her eyes jolted back to the recorder. She gently cleared her throat, then slowly pulled back her shoulders to unsmush her breasts, and tilted her neck to display an elongated, but clearly uncomfortable, line.

Chrisjen felt her cheek twitch.

Cotyar blinked at Bobbie. “You’ve never recorded a video like this before?” he finally asked, unsuccessfully masking his grin behind his hand.

Bobbie pouted at him, her face pink, and jerked up, running for the recorder. “I’m erasing this!”

Cotyar laughed, catching her by the waist, pulling her back. “Hold your horses, cowgirl!”

Twisting in his lap, Bobbie was determined to get back up, until Cotyar grunted and she went still. She swallowed heavily as he panted behind her. With careful deliberation, Cotyar licked his lips and removed his arms from around Bobbie’s waist, placing his palm flat on the bed. Bobbie glanced left and right at his hands, then back up at the recorder. And slowly, but surely, leaned back into him.

Chrisjen released a breath she didn’t realize she had been holding, and then lowered her hand from her chest to her left breast, rolling the dark tip between her fingers.

Cotyar exhaled audibly and placed a smiling kiss beneath the crook of Bobbie’s neck. “First rodeo?”

A tiny smile flitted across Bobbie’s face. She shrugged one-shouldered, barely turning to answer. “Never had the need.”

Cotyar narrowed his eyes, canting his head. “Broken hearts at every port call?”

“No!” Bobbie retorted, indignant, before carefully amending, “Not every port call. I always made it clear that I wasn’t going to stick around, but...this guy asked me to run away with him to Europa!”

Cotyar sighed, shaking his head. “The nerve of that guy. What could he have been thinking, asking a beautiful woman to run away with him?”

Cotyar reflexively ducked Bobbie’s backhand, catching it and bringing it to his lips for what would be a gallant kiss, if not for the fact that they were both in their birthday suits. And in that vein, he locked eyes with Bobbie and licked two of her fingers into his mouth. Bobbie was opening panting now, and squirming in his obviously uneven lap. He took out Bobbie’s two gleaming fingers and rubbed them over the entrance of her sex. She took to the direction immediately, the tips of her fingers disappearing beneath dark curls, her eyes fluttering shut.

The picture Bobbie made was an erotic enticement, but the satiety from the first orgasm had made Chrisjen somewhat content. It was taking her longer to get worked up, even with the understanding that they were doing this explicitly for her now. She stretched over the chaise, telling herself she was in no hurry to see what Cotyar had in store.

Hands now free to explore, Coytar cupped Bobbie’s breasts, lifting them until they threatened to spill out of his palms. Then he mouthed across Bobbie’s smooth skin, teeth flashing with tiny bites, and each bite added a quiver to the tops of her breasts, making her dark nipples peak, flushed and ripe, waiting to be pinched and plucked. And when she tried to do so herself, Cotyar snatched that hand and brought it behind her back. He braced his entire forearm beneath her breasts to replace his palms, and continued the exquisite torture. Bobbie whined, working harder over herself, her muscles tense under her skin, bracing and anticipating that moment when she would be touched.

Taking a bite of her earlobe, Cotyar ordered, “Eyes front, Bobbie.”

Bobbie ‘s eyes snapped open, and stared directly into the recorder. He drew his arm back until he was cupping just the one breast, his thumb drawing circles round and round, never getting closer than the areola. Her eyes began to widen with understanding. Her fingers slowed, but her pupils blew wide into dark bottomless pools of arousal.

“Yes, it’s not really about what you look like, how you look. It’s about showing her how you ache for the way she tasted you, how you can’t help but touch yourself remembering her.”

“Oh fuck,” Chrisjen muttered, her heart hammering.

Bobbie swallowed, gulping air as her breath grew erratic at his words.

His thumb hovered over a turgid nipple. “Do you need me to touch you?”

“No,” Bobbie breathed, her hand below picking up pace, her chest heaving, not to titillate but moving to meet her memory of Chrisjen tasting her. “I remember her mouth. Lips.”

Cotyar smiled proudly. “What else?”

“T—teeth.”

He hummed, his eyelids heavy. “Yes, she bites.”

Bobbie bucked in his lap, crying out as she convulsed.

Chrisjen moaned into the cushion.

Cotyar’s gaze flicked to the recorder, to her. “And if the audience comes from watching you, that’s a bonus.”

Bobbie fell back, limp and panting against his chest. He gently brushed the stray strands of hair away from her face, his face full of fondness.

“Do you think she misses us?” she asked, her voice hoarse from use.

His fingers linger over her arm, idly tracing the sweat dampen skin.

“Yes,” Cotyar murmured. She shivered as his hand slid down across her stomach. “I’m sure she misses all of this,” he continued, his fingers brushed feather light across her chest.

Bobbie raised both her eyebrows, her eyes brightly mischievous. “She misses my tits?”

He pretended to give Bobbie’s breasts serious consideration before nodding sagely, “They’re really nice tits. Good size, bounce, texture, and mouthfeel.”

Her cheek twitched at the last descriptor. She harrumphed and ground her ass over his lap, over his cock, and shot back, “Good size, bounce, texture, and mouthfeel.”

Even Chrisjen had to snicker at that.

“Thank you,” Cotyar replied roughly, his eyes crinkling, “I wouldn’t have known that.“

Bobbie choked, then huffed, glaring at him. Lifting her chin, she stated, “She’s still going to be pissed at you.”

Chrisjen nearly applauded.

Cotyar scratched at his jaw. “Well, since you said you wanted to have my back...”

Bobbie’s eyes rounded, vehemently shaking her head. “Oh no, that’s not how it works.”

He frowned. “That’s exactly how it works.”

“I’m not getting between you and Hurricane Chrisjen on this, I know that much.”

“How quickly they learn,” he muttered under his breath.

They didn’t even have hurricanes on Mars.

Bobbie rose her knees, so she could look down on him. “If I wasn’t quick on the uptake, I wouldn’t be able to keep up with you two and your issues.”

“I would never complain about your uptake of our issues,” he stated with a grin, gazing up at her, his hard cock jutting out between his legs, a glistening wetness adorning the fat tip.

Bobbie’s eyes slid over to the recorder, to Chrisjen, knowing she would be watching. Bobbie shoved Cotyar on his back but placed his hands on her hips, letting him guide her as she seated herself over his cock. He groaned, and sucked in a breath when she raked her nails down over his flat nipples.

“Did I ever tell you how much I love watching you lose your cool when you two fuck? When she rides you, when you take her from behind?” Bobbie grinned gleefully down at Cotyar.

His Adam’s apple bobbed as he strained, rocking up into Bobbie’s wet heat.

“When you’re inside her, when she tells you to go faster, harder, in that fucked up voice, how do you keep yourself from coming right then and there?”

Cotyar growled, imparting no coherent answers. His fists gripped the bed sheets as Bobbie increased their tempo.

“And when you give her what she wants, when she stops talking, she makes these noises that makes me wet, so wet that I can’t think about anything but getting off,” Bobbie complained, mewling as she reached down to rub her soaked mound. He reached up scratched his thumbnails against the dark peaks of her breasts, grazing the hard nubs like teeth. Bobbie climaxed, pleasure surging hard and fast from the white-knuckled grip of her fingers to the tensed curl of her toes. She missed the pained-ecstatic expression on Cotyar’s face as the ripples of her spasming sex worked his cock to ejaculation but gave him a messy kiss to make up for her inattention. His arm wrapped around her. Slipping down to his chest, she listened to the steadying rhythm of his heartbeat and closed her eyes.

“We miss you, Chrisjen.”

  
  


“ _Did you miss us?” Bobbie asked with a breathless laugh, giddy at their reunion._

“In too many 30 minute increments,” Chrisjen muttered, kicking off her ankle boots.

Cotyar canted his head at that cryptic response, before his mouth hitched into a crooked grin.

“What?” Bobbie couldn’t follow, not when Chrisjen was undressing before her eyes.

He licked his lips, his eyes gleaming. “Every time she missed us, she took 30 minutes out of her extremely compact Secretary-General schedule, to thoroughly ‘miss’ us.”

“Oh.” Bobbie blinked, before her face split a slow, heated smile. “That’s a lot of ‘missing’ time.”

“And now you’re going to make up for it,” Chrisjen growled, trembling in her undergarments.

“Not sure if there are enough hours in the day,” Cotyar opined, moving in to unsnap Chrisjen’s bra.

Tugging Chrisjen’s underwear down her hips, Bobbie promised, “But we’ll be happy to try.”

Chrisjen’s eyes fluttered close as she felt their hands on her skin.

“Damn right you will.”

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Next time on the 3D3C series, a special message for a certain someone.


End file.
